Omnipotence
by Scandalacious Intentions
Summary: Tonks watches her husband sleep, prompting an embarrassing conversation that neither will forget in a hurry...


**Disclaimer: It's all still J.K.'s. I make no money from this, which is a pity considering the amount of time I spend here.**

He was pretty sexy; sexy in his own little way. Perhaps other woman wouldn't think so but that suited her down to the ground. It was just as well that Remus Lupin was asleep and unaware of his wife's study of him. Had he been conscious of her eyes sweeping across every inch of him, he would have been decidedly uncomfortable and wouldn't have sat still long enough for her to take all of him in. He had told her to amuse herself and so she would.

Tonks ran her leg along her husband's as far as she could reach; just below his knee, a height difference she was only too aware of but he wouldn't let her morph when they shared a bed. She supposed this was because it would be awkward for him, waking up next to a woman who bore only a vague resemblance to his wife. The reason he had given her had been far more romantic, of course, but then she had not expected any less of him. Still though, a whole nine inches shorter. _Nine_!

It didn't help that he was so thin either, not that her mother had not attempted to 'put some meat on his bones' every time she laid eyes on him. Tonks had been horrified to find that, whilst she had been working, her mother had 'popped round' and insisted he eat three bowls of her soup.

Where was she? Oh yes, his face, oval with chiselled cheekbones and two prominent scars that had emerged in his teens, taking the edge off his baby face. She had laughed when he told her, but watching him sleep, she saw what he meant. His long eyelashes fluttered and his lips pouted slightly. He could have been five had he not been six feet and exactly half an inch tall.

When said eyelashes fluttered, it usually meant that she would be greeted by the sight of her favourite part of him; jet black eyes, partially hidden by a messy fringe that Sirius had claimed he had had cut in when he was fourteen, the same time that he had discovered a love of cardigans (which infuriated her) and comic poetry (which drove her wild); not the poetry, obviously. Whilst _Bloody Orkney_ was a fantastic poem, it was not sexy. Watching him read it _was_.

Watching him read made her insides crash together. He became so absorbed in the text that he was deaf and blind to all around him. A faint smile would tug at the corners of his mouth and his eyes rocketed across the page. She had never known anyone read that fast. Tonks had thought that he could not have been taking any of it in but surprisingly, he was able to recite verse after verse upon command after one read through.

He licked the tip of his right index finger before flicking over a page, a habit that Tonks had never found the exact reason for (a move that she had dubbed 'the lick and flick'). She had tried it herself on numerous occasions and it hindered more than helped her. Then again, his hands had always been remarkable; large, but with long, elegant fingers that would have seemed almost female without the calluses on his palms. Those hands could make her weak at the knees.

And speaking of weak at the knees; that voice. It was his mouth, or rather the things that came out of it, that fascinated her. From his low rumble of appreciation when they made love, to his croaky 'good morning', to his jaunty 'look what I found', always proceeded by the whipping out of either his latest book and more licking and flicking, or more obscenely sweet chocolate that made her sick. He always said the right thing, whether it was witty, insightful or consoling, as opposed to her right-thing-wrong-time hiccoughs.

He knew everything. He was her 'phone-a-friend' if she ever wound up on _Who Wants to be a Millionaire?_ He was also the man that everyone fought over when picking teams for Trivial Pursuit. Remus Lupin was the closest to God that she was ever going to get.

Watching him play Trivial Pursuit with Sirius against the four youngest Weasleys and Harry (so long ago that it had now become a distant memory) was a strangely sexy thing to behold too. When he knew an answer that he was sure no-one else did, a smug smile would grace his tired features and grow into her favourite broad grin that flashed his canines, as soon as his best friend had caught sight of it and laughed. When he concentrated and searched for an answer that he knew he had read somewhere, his eyes burned, charcoal black, and narrowed.

They had played poker once, when Sirius had been trying to teach his godson how to cheat, hence her discovery of Remus' inability to blatantly lie and, in contrast, his renowned poker face. As long as he didn't have to physically tell a lie, he was superb.

She was off on another tangent. Sighing, she devoted yet more time to her favourite hobby, Remus-watching. It didn't require any extraordinary expertise, any expensive equipment or any patience, and therefore it had quickly replaced whale-watching (something she had taken up to make herself sound more intriguing but had little to no interest in whatsoever) and bungee-jumping (something she was actually terrified of but thought that, as a rebel, it was the sort of thing she had to do).

It was odd, thought Tonks, that his scars were the first thing she noticed when she barely paid them any attention these days. She regularly kissed the bite mark on his shoulder but, with that exception, ignored most of the others simply because they made him uncomfortable and he was so terribly self-conscious.

"Dora?"

Shit! How long had he been awake?

"Yeah?" she replied, trying to sound casual, as though she had been reading.

"Stop staring at me when I'm asleep."

Tonks huffed in response. How did he know these things? _How_? "You're like God, Remus. You're impotent."

Lupin laughed so hard into the pillow that his whole body shook. Turning to his wife, a charming, half-asleep grin causing her to blush slightly, he tried to rein in his amusement.

"Darling, I assure you that neither of us, myself nor God, are impotent." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I think the word you're looking for is, omnipotent."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Know-it-all."

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "Well, darling Dora, telling me I am omnipotent could be considered flattery, whereas, telling me that I have erectile dysfunctions is almost an insult."

Tonks snorted. "Sorry," she managed, before bursting into fits of giggles.

"It's not funny Dora," Lupin told her, in mock-seriousness. "If you go round telling people that you think I'm impotent, I'll never live it down. Molly will probably try and brew me something recommended by Gilderoy Lockhart."

Tonks buried her face in his chest and shook with laughter. "Well, it's a very real fear of mine, Remus."

"My being impotent?"

Tonks nodded in mock sincerity. "Oh yes. So I think you'd better prove that you're not."

"At half past one in the morning?"

Tonks grinned. "I'm putting you on the spot. It's a crucial part of the testing process."

The silence was so deep that for a moment, she thought her husband had fallen asleep. There was nothing for it. She would have to kick him. Her jabs to the shin were the stuff of legend. Luckily, he was spared such torture.

"You're bloody lucky I love you," he said eventually.

"I know."


End file.
